“In light of this whole zombie plague I’m thinking they’re going to have to redefine R.I.P to Rise in Putrescence.” –Riley, recalling the usual gravestone markings.
“How about Rot In Pieces?” –Jessy, proving acronyms can mean whatever the reader intends.
“I can’t help but wonder if this whole undead business is restricted to humans or if it affects animals too.” –Riley, pondering the effects of The Wave.
“You do know humans are just another animal in the grand scheme of evolution right?" –Renee, showing off her intellect yet again.
“Ssh! Not so loud, you might tempt fate into having us find out!” -Heather, displaying an unusually superstitious fear of fate. (And of tempting the GM)
“Thomas Baker? An interesting name for a Bakery store owner.” –Heather, musing over their new acquaintances name.
“Back in the day it was common for people to have last names based on their profession. Smith would be a blacksmith, Carpenter a woodworker, and so forth." –Renee, showing off her intellect.
“If that’s true, then what about John Hancock?” Jessy, being a dirty old man, like usual.
The great Wall Mounts have been scaled, or your ship's technology has reached a level in which it is possible to cross the oceans. And when the PCs or NPCs find other people, unknown people, what happens? Carnage.
"Your wall is impenetrable, eh? Its so thick it can withstand 100s of direct hits from any siege engine? I have but one word for you: magic."
“What made you think all these naked dummies were zombies?” –Renee, still amazed at Jessy’s lack of control.
“Because normal people don’t stand around naked in the rain?" –Jessy, displaying his “common sense.”
“Do ya think we should offer any of these panties to Heather to replace her missing set?” –Riley, referencing the lingerie covering his windshield.
“And ruin the best form of entertainment around now pay per view is gone?” –Jessy, being a dirty old man like usual.
“Ya know, I never took Riley for the hearts & kisses boxer shorts type of mechanic.” –Heather, commenting on Riley’s choice of undergarments.
“Could be he was inspired by your short skirt and no undergarment approach to every day life?”-Renee, commenting on Heather’s choice of no undergarments.
“Fists of Fury? I wonder if these bandits ever realized their intimidatin’ name sounds more like the title of a gay porno?” –Jessy, pondering how much of a threat the prison gang truly poses..
“I’m going to do you a favor and not ask how you know so much about gay porno titles okay?”-Riley, not missing the opportunity to poke fun at the old man.
“Do yourself a favor and never visit one of those 24 hour video rental stores to make a phone call when your truck breaks down.” –Jessy, remembering the first and last time he frequented an adult video store.
“Man I could really go for a burrito; do ya think Taco Bell still has anything edible in their freezers?” –Tommy, longing for fast food.
“I doubt it, the powers out across most of the country, and after a few months without juice their freezers are prolly pretty nasty.”-Renee, reminding him of the unpleasantness of reality.
“It’s Taco Bell, I doubt you’d notice any difference.” –Heather, remembering her last unpleasant visit to the food chain.
“At least with most of the industrial plants off line the air pollution level of the world will go down. Soon you’ll be able to smell a rose bush a few hundred yards away.”–Renee, noting one of the few bright points to the collapse of civilization.
“Yep, before long everyone will be able to enjoy the scent of rotten cadavers on the evening breeze for miles.”-Jessy, pointing out the unpleasantly obvious.
“Given their stench hides the reek of your cigars I can’t rightly complain.” –Heather, wishing Jessy would give up his nasty habit.
“I’d Kiss you Jessy, but after everything that’s wound up in your beard of the past few weeks I’d probably catch the plague and become a zombie.” -Heather Wilks, grateful for Jessy’s brilliant landing location.
“That might jus be an improvement to both yer looks and yer attitude.”-Jessy Hannaford, being his sarcastic self.
Nuclear war, zombie outbreaks, meteor strikes, economic collapse, alien invasion, no matter how it happens an apocalypse makes for a unique and engaging setting to run a campaign in, even for a jaded GM.
Here’s a few quick tips that can make a good zombie or other post apocalypse game a great one, and keep the group coming back (from the dead?) for more.
“Hey uncle you know why the zombies were all over the airport? Because they wanted plaaaanes!” –Tommy Booths, making yet another zombie joke.
“I have enough trouble with airsickness kid without you giving me pundigestion.” -Riley, unamused at the endless string of lame zombie Jokes Tommy thought up.
“With how fast you go though bullets you should buy stock in an ammunition retailer.” -Renee’s advice to Jessy after realizing how fast he burned through over one hundred .9mm rounds.
“My chain of retail stores Hannaford’s actually sells a large selection of ammo, firearms, and firearm accessories.” –Jessy, his usual sarcastic self.
“Finally! Someone other then me gets covered in nasty crap!” –Jessy, relieved at avoiding being covered in dog puke.
“At least until you have to clean your nephew up anyway.” –Heather, reminding him of the unpleasantly obvious.
“I can’t imagine anything more disgusting then throwing up in a gas mask.” –Riley Setson, commenting on the fate of an unlucky pilot.
“Really? How about crapping yer drawers in a hazmat suit?” –Jessy Hannaford, proving yet again things can always be worse.
“What the hell’s wrong with that girl? She got some kinda death wish or somethin?”–Jessy Hannaford, commenting on Heather’s daring acrobatics.
“I think she’s trying to avoid the stench of your cigars uncle.” –Tommy Booths, repulsed by the smell of his uncles’ sewage dipped tobacco products.
In case you missed it, Session #6 may be found Here.
“Fly? Anyone can fly a plane, it’s easy. Landing it in one piece, now that’s a might bit trickier.” –Renee Black, clarifying her piloting skills.
“That reminds me why they tell you to put your head between your knees when assuming a crash position, it’s so you can kiss your ass goodbye.” –Jessy Hannaford, remembering basic flight safety.
“And to think this time last year, my biggest worry was keeping my bowels move’n on a regular schedule.” -Jessy Hannaford, reminiscing about the good o’l days.
“Hey, that’s one upside of a zombie apocalypse; you’re never constipated for very long.” -Riley Stetson, proving there’s a positive side to every situation.
With a huge number of sacrificial victims, another realm long ago secretly bound a Prince of the land spirits, Iorstonn by name, thus ensuring the fertility, and improving the magical defences, of their realm. But binding that Prince to one spot has disrupted the weather and magical patterns (ley lines?) over half the continent. Things have become bad enough that a coalition has been formed to rectify the situation, once divinations have established the cause.
Your party is one of the teams assembled to do the rectification: find the binding object and steal it ("so that we can destroy it here in our realm, of course"...*) or destroy it over there. Presumably the Prince will be grateful to his rescuers and angry at the binders, but with a greater spirit like Iorstonn one can never be sure: such beings are "tricksy".
* Of course, the rulers of our realm might want to control Iorstonn for their own ends...